Young Bingo was too busy introducing the mob to take much notice. They were a very C3 collection. Comrade Butt looked like one of those things that come out of dead trees after the rain; moth-eaten was the word I should have used to described old Rowbotham; and as for Charlotte, she seemed to take me straight into another and a dreadful world.
I call it rotten work, springing unexpected offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this.
Tut!′ I said. ‘What did you say?’ ‘I said “Tut!“’ ‘Say it once again, and I’ll biff you where you stand. I’ve enough to endure without being tutted at.
Tricky devils, these novelists. The ink gets into their heads.
I could see exactly what must have happened. Insert a liberal dose of mixed spirits in a normally abstemious man, and he becomes a force. He does not stand around, twiddling his fingers and stammering. He acts. I.
Between camaraderie and love there is a broad gulf.
I’m a bit short on brain myself; the old bean would appear to have been constructed more for ornament than for use, don’t you know; but give me five minutes to talk the thing over with Jeeves, and I’m game to advise any one about anything.
I knew a man once who stammered,” said Jimmy. “He used to chew dog biscuit while he was speaking. It cured him. Besides being nutritious.
No fair-minded girl objects to a certain tinge of jealousy. Kept within proper bounds, it is a compliment; it makes for piquancy; it is the gin in the ginger-beer of devotion. But it should be a condiment, not a fluid.
Much has been written on the subject of bed-books. The general consensus of opinion is that a gentle, slow-moving story makes the best opiate.
For the last day or so there had been a certain amount of coolness in the home over a pair of jazz spats which I had dug up while exploring in the Burlington Arcade.
The voice of a donkey braying in the neighbouring meadow seemed like the mocking laughter of demons.
If you haven’t realised by this time that I love you, and always shall love you, and have never loved anybody else, and never shall love anybody else, you’re a fathead.
Captain Bradbury’s right eyebrow had now become so closely entangled with his left that there seemed no hope of ever extricating it without the aid of powerful machinery.
In fact, it seemed to him that he could almost hear the wedding bells ringing already. Then, coming out of his dreams, he realized that it was the telephone.
I did not rush in with the vim I would have displayed a year or so earlier, before Life had made me the grim, suspicious man I am to-day:.
I knew a chap who bumped his leg, and it turned black and had to be cut off at the knee.’ ‘You do seem to mix with the most extraordinary people.
And of all the objects under my immediate advisement I noted this yacht with the most pleasure and approval. White in colour, in size resembling a young liner, it lent a decided tone to the Chuffnell Regis foreshore.
You have the most infernal habit when anyone says the simplest thing to you, of letting your lower jaw drop and looking like a half-witted sheep staring over a fence.
It was a morning when all nature shouted “Fore!” The breeze, as it blew gently up from the valley, seemed to bring a message of hope and cheer, whispering of chip-shots holed and brassies landing squarely on the meat. The fairway, as yet unscarred by the irons of a hundred dubs, smiled greenly up at the azure sky; and the sun, peeping above the trees, looked like a giant golf-ball perfectly lofted by the mashie of some unseen god and about to drop dead by the pin of the eighteenth.